


Just a Minute or Two

by dyingpoet



Series: Sprace one shots [46]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Light Angst, M/M, hes ok tho dw hes just stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Race gives away two pairs of gloves and it's cold but he'll be fine, right?





	Just a Minute or Two

**Author's Note:**

> done for another commission for @littlerevolutionary on tumblr!!! ur an angel and i hope u like it!!!

“Thanks Race!”

Elmer and Finch ran off, each of them with a pair of gloves and looking happier than they had in years. Race didn’t really need gloves, or his backup gloves anyway. He’d be fine.

Rubbing his hands that were most definitely  _ not  _ cold together, he started to head deeper into the city, toward the docks. He still had half a day left of selling to figure out how to sneak past Jack and Albert without a pair of gloves or a proper coat. Also selling papers, he still had to do a bunch of that. 

“Damn that wind,” he bit out, nearly stumbling back as another gust came through carrying bits of ice with it. “Early this year.”

But he couldn’t think about the cold, not this early in the day, not this early in the year. He had to sell and get back and  _ keep moving _ and he’d be fine. 

“Buy a pape, miss?” he stopped and moved off to the side of the pavement, grinning crookedly as the woman looked him over before digging out a penny. Cold got good sales, he probably looked halfway to death.

He took the coin and passed her a paper, moving along quickly. 

See, he’d spent the last month or so giving away most of his winter clothes to the littles. He figured they needed them more than he did, and if worse came to worse he snagged something out of a shop and ran like hell. It hadn’t come to that yet, but he couldn’t really feel his fingers at the moment so it might get there soon. 

“Mister! Fire on the lower east side, buy a pape!”

* * *

 

Race’s head felt foggy, also cold, everything felt cold. 

Stumbling more than he would have liked, he moved off into an alley. It was behind a deli and it smelled great at least. 

He’d sold all of his papes and he only had five blocks until he could get to lodging but he needed to sit down. Groaning, he did just that, back hitting the cold brick and it felt more like ice than anything. 

The numbness had taken over his hands completely, but he rubbed them together and blew on them nonetheless. It sort of felt like he was drunk, everything was moving sluggishly in his head and he was so  _ tired _ . 

“Just a minute or two and I’ll get up,” he said to the empty air, head falling back against the building. “Just a minute.”

As he felt his eyes flutter shut the strangest thing began to happen though. The cold started to stop and he felt warmth seeping into him. He just wanted to sleep, his body was weighing him down and the blood was buzzing through his veins like coffee. Warm coffee.

God he wanted a warm coffee, but in a minute or two. Just a minute or two.

* * *

 

There was feeling of movement, and voices, a few different voices and maybe they were the ones moving. He was just so  _ warm _ , hot even, and he wanted to go to sleep. 

“Race? C’mon buddy, open your eyes.”

It was so far away, but Race’s eyelids were glued down and from the edge of his mind he felt the ground push up and  _ he  _ was the one moving. 

“Race,  _ please  _ open your eyes.”

Different voice. Hot. He was so hot.

“God is he…?”

“Shut up he’s fine, get his other arm.”

A small puff of air escaped Race’s lips. It hurt, breathing. He wanted them to stop talking, stop moving him. God it was so hot, when had it gotten so hot?

“We’re going to lodge Race, you’re gonna be fine, c’mon, you’re gonna be fine…”

* * *

 

The feeling of a warm cup being pressed up against his lips was the first thing Race felt when he came to. Without really opening his eyes he leaned into it and drank. Now that was warm, a different kind of warm than earlier, but still warm. 

“You up, kid?”

Squinting his eyes open, Race saw Jack in front of him, and in the dim light he could see the other bunks and a few other kids staring. Albert was next to Jack at the foot of the bed. He was in lodge. 

Propping himself up, he cleared his throat and looked around. “Yeah, I’m up. What the hell happened?”

Jack pushed him back down and handed Race the cup he’d been holding. It was coffee. Also, Race noticed as he sipped slowly, Jack looked  _ scared _ . 

Once Race got a few good sips he took the cup back and set it down on the ground and let out a long sigh, raking his hand through his hair. “Damn, you fuckin’ scared us there.”

Race frowned and tilted his head, he remembering being in the alley to rest his eyes for a minute, but the rest was blurry. “What happened?”

“What happened was,” Spot’s voice came over Race’s head and he tilted back to see him leaning on the bedpost behind him, “ya nearly froze to death, Jack and I found ya passed out in an alley a few blocks away.”

Oh shit, that must have happened during the minute or two he fell asleep. The shame must have showed on his face because Jack smacked lightly at his head.

“Why weren’t you wearin’ fuckin’ gloves, huh? Or a real jacket, I know you got one.”

“Gave em away,” Race mumbled. Everyone surrounding him sighed and Jack opened his mouth to say something before following Race’s eye line to the littles. Then he let out another sigh.

“Y’know you ain’t much more than a kid yourself,” he scolded, and if Race was in a better mood he would have made a joke about mothering. “And I’m gonna kick your ass later for his.”

“Later?”

Spot’s hand came down on his shoulder and Race tilted back to look at him. “Yeah later dumbass, get some sleep and warm up first so we can all get a shot in.”

Race let out a sheepish laugh, but he did feel tired, despite the coffee.

As he was starting to drift off he mumbled out, “Won’t happen again.”

“Bull.”

**Author's Note:**

> DUMB BOY NEEDS SOME WARM TEA AND A BLANKET 2K19
> 
> kudos and comments fight my depression,, also commission me if u can!!! info on my tumblr @dyingpoet


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